PaganSquare.com - WitchesAndPagans.com

Claude Tholosan's 1445 (?) treatise So That the Errors of Magicians and Witches has some pretty profound things to say about the Horned.

Admittedly, he does call him Diabolus, the Devil.

But lay that by for now.

He shows himself to each according to their desire...nor is he seen except by whom he wishes.

“He shows himself to each according to their desire.”

He's skin-strong, this one, a changer of shapes, and how you see him depends on you and your expectations. He shapes himself to you.

Relationship. It's all about relationship: his with you, yours with him.

What a god.

He shows himself to some as a man, to some as a woman, or some beast. Me, I saw a beautiful naked man with branching antlers.

To some he shows himself as Cernunnos, to some as Pan.

To Herb Sloane, founder of Our Lady of Endor Coven and the Ophitic Gnostic Cultus of Sathanas (ca. 1965)—as perhaps to M. Tholosan—he showed himself as the Devil.

One might even suppose, then—surely it is not beyond his capability—that to some he shows himself as Christ.

I say again: what a god.

“...Nor is he seen expect by whom he wishes.”

Cucumber has aphrodisiac qualities according to recent studies, thanks not just to the veggie’s shape but also its scent. This easy-to-grow delight provides several nutrients essential to maintaining sexual health, including manganese and vitamin C, and it is a tonic for vibrant skin. Here is a short and sweet recipe for a refreshingly cold soup to share with a love on a hot day.

3 large peeled cucumbers

“Why don't we invoke a unicorn in each quarter?”

Och na noch. We're at that uncomfortable point in the ritual-planning process at which we've got the central concept in place, which we now need to flesh out into a full ritual.

Time for everyone to pee on the fire hydrant.

Naturally, A wants to invoke a unicorn in each quarter: A loves unicorns. For A, everything is better with unicorns.

Unfortunately, unicorns have nothing whatsoever to do with the rest of the ritual.

We're mammals. By nature, we want to mark our territory.

But there's an overriding issue here. Will a unicorn in each quarter make this a stronger, better ritual?

In the planning of ritual, as in other collective social endeavors, we sometimes, for a short while, need to lay aside our natural desire to leave our scent-mark, for the sake of ritual integrity.

I recently saw George R. R. Martin kvetching about precisely this problem as he commented disapprovingly on what the script-writers have done to his House of the Dragon. “Every writer thinks that they can improve the story,” he observed. “Nine times out of ten, they end up weakening it instead.”

It's the same with ritual. Twelve times out of thirteen, the changes that people want to make are mere scent-marks.

But, of course, there's always that thirteenth time.

Hopefully, you’re still basking in the glow of the glorious Harvest Full Moon on Tuesday! Now with the Autumnal Equinox to enjoy, you can truly slow down and count your blessings. My dear friend and frequent “Women Who Howl at the Moon” guest (she was our very first, as a matter of fact), has a lovely magical suggested exercise in her Witches’ Wisdom Tarot deck, corresponding with the “Offering” card. For a week, she suggests just that, counting your blessings: Per Phyllis’ magical counsel, “Each day for a week, write down one thing for which you’re grateful. For each gift you’ve received, choose a way to give back with gratitude.” Try it–I did, and it is truly a revelation how much we have to be grateful for, even with the seemingly smallest of things. You can listen more to Phyllis and hear many other fascinating and engaging guests you may have missed on our show on Podbean, or wherever you listen to your podcasts, (now including Apple and Spotify).

Those seeking a native vocabulary for modern witchery could do worse than to look North.

In Early Modern times, the sabbat was known in Scandinavia as (to translate into English cognates) the witch-thing—a suitably Nordic name for the witches' assembly.

(Modern Witchery's mixed origins are readily revealed by its mixed vocabulary. Sabbat, originally a Hebrew word, is an etic—outsider's—name opprobriously applied to a gathering also known as the “synagogue of Satan.”)

The Norse term thing—as in althing—best preserves the word's original sense: “a meeting, an assembly.” Back in old tribal days, that's what it meant in English, too. A witch-thing is thus a “witch-meeting,” a “witch-assembly”: a suitably objective term for a gathering of witches.

(Contemporary use of the word sabbat to mean a witch's holiday—as in "the Eight Sabbats"—is a derived sense, extending the name of the gathering itself to the occasion for the gathering. Clearly, such an extended usage is not suitable to witch-thing.)

Exactly how English's old word for “assembly” came to take on its current sense of “item, entity,” is not entirely clear. (Perhaps because things gather to deal with things.) Plainly, the word has had something of a roundabout journey over the course of the last 1000 years.

Witch-thing reads rather humorously to the contemporary English ear, but—be it admitted—not inaptly so. Little is more characteristic of Witching than the Sabbat.

Food can set the mood all its own as a prelude to a night of love. Surprise the object of your affection with one of these treats:

• Chocolate is rightly called the “food of the gods.”
• Nutmeg is held in high regard as an aphrodisiac by Chinese women.
• Honey—ever wonder why the time after a wedding is the honeymoon? Bee-sweetened drinks are a must!
• Oysters have been celebrated since Roman times for their special properties.
• Strawberries lend a very sweet erotic taste, eat alongside chocolate for maximum effect.
• Vanilla is little known as an aphrodisiac, but the taste and the scent are powerful.

With the fall equinox approaching, it is a perfect time to reflect on the many facets and roles of water in nature, ritual and magic. Water, essential for life, also carries a deep association with death across cultures and mythologies. This duality reflects our complex relationship with this elemental force. In many occult and esoteric traditions, the autumn season is deeply intertwined with both water and death, representing a potent time of transformation and spiritual transition.

Water often symbolizes the division between life and death. Many funerary practices involve crossing water, from Viking ship burials to the Egyptian concept of the solar barge carrying the dead to the afterlife. This imagery of a final voyage persists in many modern cultures.

In Greek mythology, five rivers wind through Hades: Styx (hatred), Acheron (sorrow), Cocytus (lamentation), Phlegethon (fire), and Lethe (forgetfulness). These waterways embody the emotions and trials souls face in the afterlife. Similar concepts exist in other cultures – the Egyptian Duat features a treacherous river, Norse mythology speaks of icy Gjöll which flows near the gate of Hel, a realm of the dead, and Hindu tradition tells of the terrifying Vaitarna. The Vaitarna is said to exist between Earth and Naraka, the realm of the Hindu god of death, Yama. The Vaitarani is also known as the "salt river" and is said to have the power to purify sins.